


Superstition

by mrs_d



Series: dS Snippets [11]
Category: due South
Genre: Backstory, Community: ds_snippets | dsc6dsnippets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ben was five, he broke his mother’s hand mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superstition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [ds_snippets](http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com/). Prompts were "mirror" and "pattern."

When Ben was five, he broke his mother’s hand mirror. Robert, perhaps trying to be funny, told him that he’d have seven years of bad luck, but Caroline laughed it off, saying that was absurd, and Ben laughed with her. She loved that sound and wished she heard more of it.

* * *

Martha was worried.

Ben was obsessed with hunting, and he hadn’t come home from school. Quinn’s call was a relief, but Martha worried more when Benton, pale and quiet, went straight to bed, and Quinn informed them that Benton had shot a caribou.

“It’s a bad sign,” she told George that night when Benton refused to come to dinner. “It’ll haunt him for years, like a curse. How could Quinn let him do such a thing?”

“Never mind,” George replied. “Boy had to learn somehow.”

But Benton laughed less after that, and he joined the RCMP as soon as George died six and a half years later.

* * *

“Did you hear?” Constable Harris said to the break room, clearly unaware that Ben was in the hall. “Fraser fell for that bank robber chick. I swear, that guy has the worst luck.”

When the bullet entered his back, Ben decided that Harris was probably right.

* * *

After their adventure in the closet of a stripper who carried a lucky rabbit and Ray’s spiel about his sunglasses and their mojo, Benton avoided sidewalk cracks like they carried infectious diseases, which they likely did.

No need to test a pattern, he thought.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ray gasped. “With me?”

“Of course.” Ben swept Ray’s sweaty blond hair away from his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m cursed,” Ray muttered. “Haven’t had good luck since I was five years old.”

“Me neither,” Ben told him, and he kissed Ray again.


End file.
